Mercy Street
by WellMyDarling
Summary: After the death of both her parents, Scarlett Clarier and her Aunt Bella move into the infamous murder house for a fresh start. In flashbacks, She remembers the first time she heard the ghosts roaming the halls and the first time she met Tate Langdon, the boy she fell in love with. But can Tate keep her safe from this messed up house and himself? After all, shes all he has left.
1. Flashback

_October 23rd 2012 _

_Anybody could write novels and films and musicals, and Grecian tragedies and Shakespearean comedies, and yet none of them would even begin to describe the enigma that was Scarlett Clarier. Remembering the first time you realized that you loved her, so much that it scared you. It was terrifying, being in love. Before her you've never even thought about feeling anything for anyone, above all love. _

_And she was everything you ever loved, and she was perfect._

"What are you doing?"

Her petite voice broke through his stream of thought. His head shot towards the doorway where she stood, her small figure leaned against the frame. He smiled at her, but this time he does it with his eyes, for the first time in years, he smiles vibrantly.

He shuts the leather-bound notebook, puts the pencil down and stares at her for a while, contemplating whether he should break the silence or not.

"Nothing." He finally says; standing up and walking towards her.

She had been a bit more distant lately, not talking to him as much as she used to. But one side of him was selfish, he never wanted her to leave, he wanted her to stay with him in the house, so they could be together, forever. And the other half pleaded for her to leave and never come back, the other half of him wanted to save her from the darkness. But she wasn't like that, she could never leave him, no matter how much he begged for her to go, she would find her way back to see him.

Tate Langdon was her best friend.

"Will you tell me a story?" She tilted her head to the side, her chestnut brown hair curtaining her face.

He nodded, taking her hand and leading her to the bed. They lay together, her head on his chest, her fingers playing at the hem of his dark grey sweater. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"Scar?" Tate whispered after a while, checking to see if she had fallen asleep.

"Mm?" She replied, snuggling deeper into his chest, her arm thrown over his torso.

"Just checking if you're awake. What story do you want to hear?"

Her eyes fluttered open, looking up at Tate who watched her warmly.

"Tell me about the day we met."

Tate smiled at the memory, leaning his head back on the wall as he caressed Scarlett's cheek.

"Last October, the 15th, you were humming that song…."

"Mercy Street," She said.

"And I came up behind you."

"_Nowhere in the corridors of pale green and grey. Nowhere in the suburbs, in the cold light of day. There in the midst of it so alive and alone. Words support like bone."_

"_What are you singing?" _

_Scarlett jumped, almost dropping the cup of tea she was holding, she didn't recognize the voice and it certainly did not sound like her Aunt Bella's. She spun to see a tall boy sitting on her window sill, legs crossed. His mouth curved upwards in a smile, but his tired hazel eyes stayed the same. He has blond curly hair, slightly dishevelled and it looked like it hadn't been brushed in months. He wore an old sweater, it was dark green and it hung flatteringly on his body. _

"_Who are you?"_

"_Tate."_


	2. First Impression

**Saturday, October 15th, 2011**

"Scarlett, don't forget your mp3 player, you left it in the passenger seat!"

Aunt Bella called from downstairs where she was adjusting furniture and tables the movers had carried in from the truck. Scarlett held a medium sized box up to her chest; the heavy package filled with her books and used journals as she carried it up the stairs and into her new room.

"It's called an Ipod, Bella! Get with the generation!" She joked, setting the hefty box down on her bed.

She pulled the top open, revealing the stacked pile of novels from every genre, her favourite being the romantics. Scarlett adored poetry and old literature. Before her father had passed, he had given Scarlett his old journal for her 18th birthday. It was an old leather bound book with the spine jaded and cracked, and it was filled with poems and love notes he had written for her mother. She blew the dust off the cover and set it on the bookshelf.

Behind her, Bella set down a cup of tea on the bedside table.

"I chose this room especially for you, the window seat made me think of how you could curl up on the terrace and watch the rainfall when you were younger."

Scarlett smirked, reaching for the cup of tea and blowing away the steam before taking a cautious sip of the scorching liquid. She sighed as the warmness of the camomile calmed her.

"It's perfect, thank you."

Bella smiled at her niece, her pride and joy, and the only thing she had left of her brother, Louis. Scarlett was a spitting image of him, with her long chestnut brown hair, petite figure and blue eyes that resembled the brightest sapphires. She loved wearing oversized pullovers and sweaters, dark leggings or jeans and her usual doc martens; Bella had begged for her to at least consider a dress or skirt of any sort but Scarlett has brushed that thought over.

"Anywho, here is your "IPod" as you kids call it these days. I'll be in the kitchen making dinner."

She set the music player on the bed and with that, disappeared down the hallway.

Scarlett plugged the IPod into her music dock, turning the dial until she had chosen the preferred song and pressed play. Music filled the room as the women sang the piano ballad solemnly; Scarlett twirled and sang along to the song.

"Nowhere in the corridors of pale green and grey. Nowhere in the suburbs, in the cold light of day. There in the midst of it so alive and alone. Words support like bone. Dreaming of Mercy Street."

"What are you singing?"

Scarlett jumped, almost dropping the cup of tea she was holding. She didn't recognize the voice and it certainly did not sound like her Aunt Bella's. She spun to see a tall boy sitting on her window seat, legs crossed. His mouth curved upwards in a smile, but his tired hazel eyes stayed the same. He had blond curly hair, slightly dishevelled and it looked like it hadn't been brushed in months. He wore an old sweater, it was dark green and it hung flatteringly on his body.

"Who are you?"

"Tate." He replied, blankly.

She rolled her eyes at his response, not exactly what she was going for.

"I mean, what are you doing in my house?"

"I usually come here when I want quiet, abandoned houses are sorta my thing now." He chuckled, like he was sharing an inside joke with himself.

"Well, I hate to break it to you but this house isn't really abandoned anymore, my Aunt and I just moved in." She stated.

He frowned a bit, "I see. Well if you need a friend id be glad to fill that position." He smiled, which was almost comforting strange enough.

"Well Tate, My Aunt Bella is making Chinese food for dinner tonight, you wanna join us? Maybe you'll explain your fetish for old houses over a bowl of orange chicken?"

He shook his head, his blond hair curtaining his eyes.

"Only if there is moo shu pork."

"So Tate, where exactly do you live?" Bella asked as she cut through her chicken. He kept silent for a little while before responding,

"That's kind of the thing, I don't really have a place to stay anymore, after my mom and I had a fight she kinda kicked me out the door. I used to hide out here but then the house got sold so I guess ill have to find someplace else." He forked through his rice, his head rested on his palm.

"Nonsense!" Bella remonstrated, her cutlery clanging as it hit the plate. "You can stay here with us Tate; we have an extra bedroom anyway. We're not letting you wander those streets without a home." She expressed dutifully as Scarlett visually examined her Aunt with an uneasy look. Tate beamed at the proposition, nodding in approbation.

"Thank you, Isabella." He smiled.

Scarlett gave a diminutive smile aswell, but her appetite had long gone faded, not exactly sure if sharing a house with a stranger was such a great conception.

**A/N: Well that's chapter two :) I have already written out the plan for the rest of the story which I will try my hardest to update daily. As for this chapter, what do you think of Scarlett & Tate's meeting? Did you think Tate's "excuse" was convincing for Bella and Scarlett? AND he's moving in? I think you need to sit down for this….**

**Read & Review please :) The more reviews the quicker I will update! 2 new reviews = Next Chapter!**


	3. My Only Friend

**October 22nd, 2011**

"No, Please, Don't do it," The main heroin on the television screen sobbed as she her back hit the wall, leaving her stranded in an closed room as the killer approached slowly, his evil laugh terrorizing her. Freddy Kruger raised his knife clad fingers to touch the girls face, wondering if she had any last words to say. Before she could reply, he sliced her in a gruesome fashion, startling Scarlett as she hid her face in a pillow, afraid to look at all the blood gushing.

"It's just a movie," Tate laughed, in a casual matter, as if the mental conception of murdering people didn't faze him what so ever. Scarlett reached for the remote, clicking away at the TV until she found something more comforting like a children's cartoon. It was Tate's idea to watch a horror movie, but the topic of murderers and serial killers didn't settle well with her, making her uneasy.

He noticed the way her hands were shaking as she set the remote down on the coffee table, her entire body trembled with fear as she curled up under her blanket.

"Scarlett, I didn't mean for it to scare you, I thought you would like horror movies."

She shook her head, "its not that I don't like horror movies, its just…"

She sighed, her mouth slightly agape as she tried to conjure up things to say.

"My father was murdered, last year on his way home from work. He hadn't done anything wrong, he was an innocent man nevertheless, but some fucking bastard thought it would be fun to rob then shoot a random guy in an alleyway, the random guy turned out to be my Dad, and, yeah." Scarlett wiped away a stray tear that had fell, trying her best to keep her composure. Tate couldn't exactly understand where Scarlett was coming from, the way she loved her father was clear, but he had never felt that way for his dad before. Not just because his cocksucking mother had shot him down for cheating.

"What about your mom?"

Scarlett sniffled a bit, fixing her position on the couch before continuing.

"She loved him, more than anything. I had never seen more love between two people then with my parents, it was perfect. Until he died, then she was miserable. For nights she would fall asleep sobbing and she had taken up drinking. Then one night, it was too many shots of vodka, countless swigs of jack until she passed out. Never woke up."

Scarlett's eyes were red from the tears, her throat slightly parched as it was hoarse from the talking.

Tate nodded, not knowing what to say in comfort, so he kept silent. Scarlett admired that. She hated getting pity from people when she told them about her mom & dad. She hated the hugs and the people who pretended to care, when she knew they never gave a rats ass. Tate was honest, and she liked that.

"What about you," Scarlett commenced, taking a sip of her juice sitting on the table. "Mom kicks you out of the house and that's it?"

Tate grinned, crossing his legs on the white fabric sofa. "Shes sorta a bitch, different man in her bed every night. Even though im out of her life I still feel sorry for Addie having to abide it."

"Addie?"

"My Sister," Tate Explained.

"Do you have a picture of her?" Scarlett asked eagerly.

Tate didn't know if he felt comfortable showing her a picture of Addie, being wildly protective over his older sister and how other people would treat her when they saw her, assuming she was some sort of monster, when to him she was the most beautiful girl he had ever known. Reluctantly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small photograph, handing it to Scarlett. Scarlett looked down at the photo, the smile of the girl behind it becoming wildly contagious. In the picture, Addie wore a teal floral dress with a white collar, her dark brown hair brushed and the bangs straightened to cover her forehead and accentuate her round face. She had dark blue eyes that gleamed as she smiled at the camera, her hands holding onto the ropes of the swing she sat on. The fact that Addie had a disability was not at all acknowledged by Scarlett, who had never seen a girl so happy.

"She's beautiful, Tate. Her eyes are so full of life."

Tate smiled at Scarlett's honesty, he liked the way she saw the best of people, so pure. It virtually made him angry that he was like this, stuck and stranded, like the girl in the horror movie they watched earlier. He had never prayed before, for anything, maybe once when his mother made him pray that they would win the million dollar jackpot on the lottery when he was 7, but that didn't count. But this time, Tate prayed that if Scarlett ever found out about his past, she would learn to forgive him, after all she was all he had now, his only friend.

"So, Do you have a job yet?" He asked her, trying to build new conversation, learn more about her. She chuckled, switching through the channels for a program.

"You'd think after I finished high school id be on my way to college or university, getting degrees and stuff, making a living. But, I don't see myself there yet. My Aunt Bella is an artist, and a talented one at that. She didn't get her career started until she was 25, so she understands where im coming from." Scarlett explained, leaving the channel to play a documentary on birds.

"I love birds." He stated elatedly, pointing towards the TV where a black bird was flying across the screen. "That's a Chihuahuan Raven, my favorite type of bird."

They watched as the narrator elucidated different types of birds, almost surprising Scarlett of how many types and colors and shapes there were.'

"I wish I could fly away, and be free. Those lucky bastards get all the glory." He said, his hand landing over Scarlett's, who didn't seem to direct her eye away from the screen.

As the hour droned on, Scarlett yawned, lying her head down on Tate's shoulder to repose, her eyelids becoming heavy. He waited till she was thoroughly sound asleep before hoisting her into his arms and up the stairs to her bedroom. She would make an occasional mumble which made Tate chuckle as he settled her down into bed.

"Goodnight, Scarlett."

He whispered before disappearing into the darkness.

**A/N: Aw, Look at Scar and Tate bonding.**

**Review for the next chapter**!


	4. Inception

**A/N: Quick note! I just wanted to thank all the people who review my story and tune in every chapter. But lately iv been feeling the lack of reviews and it hasn't encouraged me to update much as often, hopefully every silent reader can just let me know they like the story, other wise I might not continue, and that would be sad cause I have a really great story planned. So PLEASE review guys, thank you so much :)**

**PS – All the italic sentences are usually flashbacks, just so nobody's confused.**

**November 1st, 2011**

He used to think the world was a filthy place. A filthy, goddamn horror show and he thought that killing the people he liked would save them from living a life filled with disappointment. Tate thought it would take them away from the sick world, and the shit and the piss and the vomit that ran through the streets. People were never happy, no one was really happy, because of the place they were stuck in. He wanted to get them out of there. He wanted to end their misery, and put them in a place where they would be happy. A place that's clean, and pure, and beautiful. But when he died in the murder house, he realized there is no such place, for no one is truly happy. It doesn't take a place to make a difference; it could take something simple, like one person. A girl, in fact. A girl he never thought he'd meet, but there she was. In his old room, unpacking her belongings and claiming the house as her own, for now. He knew that revealing himself was a bad idea, but he was just so lonely. He was tired of waiting for someone's company, for a friend, for anybody really. He was fucking exhausted. Before he died, he remembered feeling incomplete. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or that he only shot and killed 15 kids and not more like he planned. He hadn't gotten any sleep the night before they found him, which explained why he always had bags underneath his eyes, and why they always seemed to be rimmed with red. He revealed himself away and met her. She was changing him, making all the bad thoughts go away. Making the darkness of Tate disappear. Scarlett was everything he didn't think she would be. She was like the happy place he thought off. Clean, Pure and Beautiful. But he couldn't like her, he couldn't. He was fucked up and she was a good person, she was kind, and she was _living._

But the realization killed him, because there was such a thing as a beautiful place, it existed, and it was with her.

He laid on the rooftop, staring at the sky, not a single cloud hovered through the clear blue atmosphere. Tate Langdon felt peaceful.

_**Later**_

Bella entered the kitchen in search for a sponge.

Her latest piece of artwork was almost complete; it just needed some finishing touches on the shading. She had her strawberry blond hair in a messy bun on the top of her head, a red bandana tied to push her bangs back. Her jean overalls were covered in paint and charcoal, blotches covered her upper arms and bare legs, sometimes took days to wash off. She was eager to get back to painting and finally completing a piece of work since the death of her brother. She had become so busy with moving across the country with her niece Scarlett, she had forgotten about her art. Once she got in, she couldn't stop. It was one of the things she loved about being an artist, the way she could get lost in her work at hours at a time, not having to worry about the stains that covered her.

She fumbled through the cleaning supplies underneath the sink, pushing aside detergents and sprays.

"Is there something you need help with?" A women's voice said from the doorway, causing a startled Bella to turn her head and smack it on the sink. She gripped her forehead in agony, her mouth filling with the foul taste of copper as the liquid trickled down her face.

"Oh dear, lemme get you a towel and some ice." The women swiftly moved around the kitchen, knowing precisely which cupboard held towels and snatching a bag of frozen peas out of the freezer. She gingerly raised Bella to her feet and set her on the stool, carefully wiping away the blood.

"I didn't mean to startle you, Ms. Clarier."

Bella looked at the stranger, an old woman who had short red hair and was clad in a standard maid's uniform. Her skin was furrowed and she looked no younger than 70, her right eye was pale blue unlike her left with was grey and clouded, possibly due to an accident.

"Who are you?" Bella asked, her eyesight becoming less lucid.

"Moira O'Hara, im the housekeeper." She tossed the blood soaked towel into the sink, pressing a bag of frozen peas up to the newly-formed bump and slight cut on Bella's forehead.

"I-I didn't know this house came with a housekeeper." Bella stated, questioning where the women had shown up from, a little unsettled.

"I've been working for this house for years, every family who ever lived in this house had hired me." She asserted.

"Wow, you must be the best then. The only thing is I don't know if I can come up with the money to pay you."

"Then I'll work for half the pay." She declared without a beat. Bella iced her forehead tenderly, a bit unsteady of Moira's offer. Why did she even want to work here so bad? Then again, who was she to question, she had a maid who was begging to work here half the price, and she probably knew this house top to bottom. Plus Bella wasn't much of a clean freak, and the only thing Scarlett ever cleaned was her bookshelf from time to time.

"Alright then, you're hired."

Moira's face lit up with appreciation as she bent forward to hug the women.

"Thank you Ms. Clarier, it would be a pleasure."

"Oh please, call me Bella." Bella stood up from the stool, tossing the frozen bag of peas back inside the freezer. She opted for a Band-Aid from the cupboard but was stopped my Moira.

"Allow me, Bella." Moira unwrapped the Band-Aid from its packaging, fixing it over the mild cut on Bella's forehead.

Maybe having a maid wasn't gonna be all that bad.

_**That Night**_

Scarlett stirred in her sleep, letting the cloud consume her into a dream, where the vision of her mother became clearer.

_Annalynne Clarier sat by the phone, expecting a call one early august morning. She was eager to hear from her husband Louis, who had promised he would call his wife if he got the job and editor in chief at the newspaper firm he worked out for the past 4 years. Louis was a talented writer, his best genre being romance. When they met, Annalynne was a sophomore in high school, Louis was a senior, going off to London for an arts program he had been accepted into. When they met, Louis knew London was not a choice anymore, he knew his life would be wherever Annalynne was. When they married, Annalynne was blessed with a beautiful baby girl, Scarlett. And for 16 years everything was perfect, until that horrific day. _

_The phone rang, and Annalynne jolted for it off the counter, lifting the speaker to her ear. She listened to what the man said carefully, but the man speaking was not her husband. _

_Scarlett Clarier watched from behind the doorway as her mother broke down weeping. She became frightened; she had never heard her mom sob like that, like she had been shattered into a million pieces. Annalynne dropped the phone onto the hardwood, screaming and bawling for her husband. Scarlett knew what her mother had heard, but couldn't bear to believe it. _

"_Mom?" Scarlett called out to her mother, who was on her knees, broken. Annalynne needed one look at her daughter to begin crying again, Scarlett being the only thing left of the love of her life. Scarlett dashed over to her mother, wrapping her arms around her to soothe her. But she couldn't help the tears forming in her eyes as she also began to sob. She wanted to stay there and hold her mom forever, knowing she also didn't have long left. _She wanted to stay here, comforting her mother, she couldn't leave her again. _Slowly, Scarlett could feel herself becoming more lucid. She could feel the warmth of her sheets, her pillowcase soft against her cheek. All the familiar smells associated with her room comforted her. She begged not to wake up, trying to keep her eyes closed and in the dream. But her mom started to fade, the room around them started to fade and soon enough, she wasn't holding on to anything. _

She woke with a sharp intake of air. Her room was settled in shadow, the moon glowing like a crystal ball on the far side of the window. Her sheets were hot and damp, tangled around her legs. The clock read two thirty in the morning. She lifted a hand to brush the dried tears that streamed down her face, she had been crying in her sleep. She hadn't had a dream about her mother in ages, it was almost terrifying to remember the day her father died, never mind relive it in her sleep. She took a long, deep breath then exhaled, tossing back the bed sheet and swinging her tan, lithe legs over the mattress. She slowly tipped toed across the floor towards her door, opening and closing it behind her with ease, making sure she turned the knob to silence the click of the latch. She crossed the hall towards the bathroom but before she could turn the light switch, a creak from the hardwood shot her head up. She was wide awake now, listening closely as the creaking got louder, the footsteps heavy.

"Bella?" She called out, fretfully glancing around her, but nothing was there. Just a small table in the corner with a vase full of flowers and a phone book, nothing out of the ordinary. She crept down the hallway cautiously, her breath caught in her throat when she saw a shadow appear on the wall.

Something was approaching down the hall, towards her.

"Tate is that you?' She swallowed hard, pleading it was just him, but there was no reply.

"Get out while you can."

Scarlett spun with a jolt to face a girl who stood behind her. She was wearing a nurse costume, the front of it stained with blood as knifes were dug in her back. She looked younger than her, around sixteen. Her face was palm and washed out. Her eyes were black, and she smelt of something distant, something fowl.

Rotting Corpse.

"Who are you? And why are you in my house?" Scarlett inched backwards, her mind racing to the point where she thought it might explode.

The girl titled her head back and laughed a scary, bloodcurdling laugh.

"This is my house, I died here."

Wait, did she just say, died?

"And now, Scarlett, you will too."

A hand clasped over Scarlett's mouth, causing her screams to become muffled. She was being choked and someone was pulling her back, dragging her down the hall. She kicked the floor, hoping to make enough noise for Aunt Bella to hear and wake up, to call 911 and get help. Her hands were being held behind her back as was being heaved, the girl in the nurse costume waving with a daunting smile. She couldn't see what was pulling her back but whatever it was, it was impossibly strong. Around her, the paint off the walls peeled and blood oozed from the ceiling, the chandelier in the hall shook as so did the house. Her throat was closing up, she couldn't breathe, and everything was coming down on her. Was she being murdered? Is this was death was like?

She inhaled any possible air she was getting through to let out a shrill scream.

"Tate, help me, please!"

"Just wake up Scarlett." A voice in her head calmly spoke.

She fought against the tight grip on her, trying to block out the nurse girl's laughing.

"Scarlett, just wake up!" The voice boomed again, and Scarlett's eyes shot open. She was no longer being choked or hauled down her upstairs hallway. There was no laughing girl with knifes in her back or a nurses outfit. She was being cradled in Tate's arms, his body wrapped around her as he soothed her from the nightmare. She hadn't woken up the first time, she was simply dreaming the entire time.

"Tate," she sobbed, gripping onto his shirt and pulling him close. He shushed her, kissing her head lightly as her rocked her body gently, caressing her cheek. Scarlett took a few deep breaths, her teary eyes traveling up to meet Tate's. His familiar, tired, red rimmed eyes gaze at her in pain.

"You were just having a bad dream, I heard you calling out for me in your sleep. Everything is okay, Scar. I wont ever let anything hurt you."

She sniffled, embracing him as they lay in her bed.

"Please stay here." She pleaded, terrified to shut her eyes.

He nodded, tightening his hold on her.

"Im here, I promise."


End file.
